


I Think We Owe Skrimir a Fruit Basket

by JAMoczo



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Fire Emblem Kink Meme, Ike has a shit list, Ike's POV, Inner Gatrie, Light crack, M/M, Poor Skrimir, Ranulf is a bro, Soren eats the eye candy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8830180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAMoczo/pseuds/JAMoczo
Summary: Skrimir tries to buy Soren for a night, and Ike is angry but he isn't sure why.  Thankfully, he gets two shoulder angels to explain things to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prompt that started this fic:
> 
> http://fe-kink-meme.tumblr.com/post/141453112787/fe-radiant-dawn-skrimir-sp-asks-to-borrow-or
> 
> I tried to write smut, but I just couldn't do it.  They wouldn't let me.  Have some fluff instead.

This story begins in a bar, unlike literally every other story in my life. 

 

Okay so technically it doesn’t begin in the bar, but I’m gonna start it in the bar because I had to tell what happened to the bartender and it’s just easier to say it once. 

 

“My name is Ike, and I have a problem.  That problem is that I want to punch jerks in the face.”  I took the keg of ale, determined to drink it all even though I have never drunk alcohol before.  It was just that kind of day.

 

"But Ike," the bartender said, "that's not a real problem.  Everyone wants to punch jerks in the face." 

 

I wonder if it’s a contractual obligation of bartenders to be nice.  But then again, I was the only one in the bar, so it figures he’d be bored and talking to me.  “You don't understand.  My brain is pretty subjective about who's a jerk or not.  Don't get me wrong, killing monumental assholes like Oliver and Ashnard was rewarding in its own way, but they're not who I'm talking about.  No, jerks are – my shit list is Shinon, Stefan, Shinon, Mordecai, Shinon, and _especially Skrimir._ ”

 

The guy leaned his elbows on the bar as I drank.  "I’m not sure what’s weirder, that you have a shit list, or the people on it," he admitted, not seeing my wisdom.  "Except Shinon.   No one likes Shinon."

 

“I know, right?” 

 

"But explain to me why you don't like the others."

 

“Okay, so Mordecai.  My beef” mmm beef, I’m hungry, “with him is minor and he apologized so we're cool, but a part of me wants to punch him in the nose. He attacked Soren.  Granted Soren was goading him, but still, not cool.  Then there's Stefan.  Goddess how I hate Stefan, with his perfect hair and awesome form and befriending Soren!    Who lives in a desert anyway?  Shinon is Shinon, there are lots of reasons he needs to be punched.  Let’s all punch him.  When I was fifteen I once walked in on a fist fight between him and Soren, and it wasn’t pretty for anyone involved.”  I sighed, drinking more.  “And then there’s Skrimir.”  The bartender nodded, refilling my mug.  This stuff tasted terrible but I was slightly less anxious and ashamed than I was earlier, so I consider that a victory.  Don’t judge me, I don’t know the legal drinking age in a war zone.  “Ugh, Skrimir, that guy.  Do you know what he did?  Yesterday he asked Soren to sit by him.”

 

“Oh no,” said the bartender, totally understanding me.

 

“It gets worse though, trust me.  Today, he asked Soren to marry him.”  The bartender’s eyebrow shot up, so I amended, “Sort of.”

 

Okay sorry guys, coming up is a big block of text, but you’ll get the story, so no complaining.

 

“It’s a Gallian thing apparently.  According to Titania, it’s an ‘honor’ as far as they see it, to sleep with the Prince.  Kinda goes along with the whole ‘power’ thing that they’re all about.  Huh, I wonder how Titania knows that.  You know what, I don’t wanna know.  Anyway, Skrimir told Soren he wants to test him as a possible consort to the future king.  Soren set him on fire, proving why everyone loves him.  But it gets worse!  Because rather than leaving it at that, Skrimir came over and asked me!  He wanted to pay me to make Soren sleep with him!”

 

“So what did you do?” he asked. 

 

“Good question,” I replied.  “I pulled out my sword and almost cleaved his head in half, that’s what I did.  Unfortunately, I was so pissed off I forgot my audience, because Skrimir thought that was the best idea ever, and he challenged me to a duel.  A duel!  Then Ranulf dragged him out, and Titania made me do some deep breathing exercises, and now here I am, getting drunk for the first time in my life, because, you know, ugh.”

 

“I don’t know, it’s kind of romantic, since you’re in love with Soren,” said the bartender. 

 

“What do you mean, romantic?  I’m not in love with him.  You’re a bartender, what do you know about this?”

 

“Of course you’re not in love with him,” he said, “he’s just that guy who follows you around, snarks at your enemies, solves all your problems, makes you jealous if people even look at him, puts your safety above all else…”

 

“… is my best friend, makes me violently overprotective, is totally beautiful, and I couldn’t live without him,” I finished.  “Hey, I think I recognize you now, why are you even here?  Aren't you supposed to be in Melior?  Pretty sure that’s what Haar said.”

 

He smirked.  "Ah, people make that mistake often. I am Devdan. Definitely not Danved.  He fights like ten men, but I fight like twenty."  With that he left the bar, and I was reminded why I don’t drink.

 

So I got some alone time for about three seconds before Ranulf came inside the bar.  “I can’t get Skrimir talked out of a duel, and I pulled out all the stops.  You dun goofed, Ike.”

 

“All of the stops?  Really?”

 

“Yeees, including an entire boar, and belly rubs.  He never turns down belly rubs, so he’s serious.”  He suddenly smirked.  “You know, for all Soren complains that no one likes him, he sure could have a harem if he wanted to.”

 

“Don’t make me add you to my shit-list.”  I was not in the mood for his shenanigans.  Ranulf is a bro, but a little of him goes a long way.

 

“You have a shit list?”  He sat next to me and took my ale.  I would have judged him for it, except the stuff is gross.  “Whatever.  So tomorrow before lunch, you two will duel for the honor of Soren.  This can’t possibly go wrong.  We’re only in a war and two of the leaders are going to fight each other for what is essentially no reason.”    

 

“There is a reason.  No one tries to whore out my friends.”

 

He rolled his eyes.  “You just don’t get it.  I really have no idea how you didn't see this coming.  Skrimir's been hunting for Soren for weeks."

 

I perked up a little.  "Huh?"

 

"Did you not notice the huge variety of meat that kept randomly appearing at Soren's tent?”

 

Silly Ranulf.  "Well yeah, it was weird I guess, but then Oscar turned the mystery meat into delicious dinners and I stopped wondering about it."

 

Ranulf let out a big sigh.  "My bad."  Yes, that was his bad.

 

So there was some more of me drinking that we don’t need to talk about, then I went to bed, then the next day I got to fight Skrimir in a duel.  Because that’s the way my life works, everyone came out to watch, including Soren, _which isn’t awkward at all thanks_.  He was scowling, but then again he usually is, so I wasn’t too worried. 

 

To make a long story slightly less long, I hit Skrimir, Skrimir hit me harder, he got set on fire for the second time in two days, and I landed on the ground hard. 

 

This is where things get weird.

 

Suddenly everyone else was gone except me on the ground and someone standing over me.  “Hello Ike,” said Gatrie grandly.  “I am Gatrie, and I am your Guardian Angel-“

 

“Good job,” I snarked, because really.

 

“- of Love,” he finished.  “You see, it has become obvious to me, and everyone else you know, that you lack any understanding of romance.  I have come to you to rectify this!”

                                                                                                                                         

“Okay, I’ll bite.  Why you?” I had to ask, standing up.

 

“Because I am a great sage of love,” said he, dramatically placing his hand on his heart.  “I have also enlisted the help of Ranulf, your secondary best friend.”

 

“I am actually just here for the food,” said Ranulf, who was now also there.

 

“There is no-” I was about to protest when a huge buffet of beautiful meat showed up.  “Huh, never mind.”

 

“Geez, Ike,” Ranulf chastised me as he peered over the table, “You don’t know yourself if you thought your subconscious doesn’t have food.”  He took a turkey wing and began to happily eat.

 

“Now then,” began Gatrie even as he grabbed some steak on a stick, “it turns out that you are incapable of determining romance on your own due to the childhood trauma of seeing your father murder your mother.”

 

Ranulf’s tail puffed.  “Yikes.”

 

I tried to remember that, but it came up blank.  I was busily chewing on a steak.  My subconscious does not need dinnerware.  “I saw it?  Yeesh.”

 

“So I, as your Guardian Angel of Love, shall now take a proactive role in letting you recognize romance,” Gatrie let out a dramatic sigh.  “I shall be a voice in your head that will tell you of the liaisons you have overlooked.”

 

“Huh, cool,” I said, not sure I liked this. 

 

“I also have a factoid that you need to know,” he said grandly.  He was almost as big of a ham as the actual ham on the table, you guys.  It made me glad that the real Gatrie and I weren’t exactly close.  “Friends do a lot of things for each other, yes, but they typically don’t risk death or obsess about each other’s feelings.  All of the things you’ve done for Soren as your ‘best friend’-“

 

“Besides me,” Ranulf said with a smirk.

 

“- are things that are not done between best friends.  They indicate romance!”

 

Ranulf nodded sagely.  “You’re my bro, Ike, but I will never let Mordecai punch me or challenge Skrimir to a duel for your chastity.”

 

This was a lot to take in.  “Um… okay…  so… that’s it?”  They nodded.  “Ranulf really was just here for the food?”

 

“Yep,” said my alleged secondary best friend.

 

My eyes opened, and Rhys was leaning over me with his healing staff glowing.  “Welcome back,” he said, smiling. 

 

 _RHYS AND TITANIA ARE LOVERS!_ exclaimed Inner Gatrie with way too much excitement. 

 

“Oh wow I can’t picture that at all,” I said, sitting up.  Then the pictures came to my mind and I wished I still couldn’t picture them.

 

_And you were wondering how Titania knows about laguz romance customs… Cainhegis is how she knows.  Did you think that SEXY LADY TITANIA would not be propositioned while she was in Gallia?_

“Darn it, Inner Gatrie!  I said I didn’t want to know!”

 

Rhys’ mouth twisted in a frown.  “Maybe you need to lay back down…”

 

“Nyah, I’m fine.”  I looked around.  The crowd was still present except for Soren, with the real Ranulf hitting Skrimir with a blanket to douse the flames and Mist yelling instructions to him, her own healing staff out.

 

_BOYD AND MIST ARE ALSO LOVERS!_

 

I felt an all-body shudder.  “No!” I exclaimed before remembering that the one I was yelling at wasn’t in the real world.  _You take that back, Inner Gatrie!_

_Nope, can’t!  They are lovers!  They do the horizontal tango!  Engage in the beast with two backs!_

_SHUT UP, INNER GATRIE!_

_Psh, fine._   He paused, and got a mischievous smile on his face.  I got the feeling very quickly that he wasn’t done teasing me.  _Oh!  Oh, by the way, you already figured out that Skrimir wants to MAKE SWEET KITTEN LOVE to Soren.  Now you can picture it._

And now I could picture it.

 

“Oh my fuck,” I said, because that was horrible.  Seriously, that wouldn’t fit!  “Make the images stop!”

 

Even as Inner Gatrie humored me, Rhys looked concerned.  “You must have gotten hit harder than I thought…” 

I grabbed Rhys’ collar.  “Where’s Soren?”

 

“Back in his tent,” Rhys said, looking at my eyes.  “You probably shouldn’t-”

 

I ignored him, scrambling to my feet and running to the small tent by mine.  I threw the flap open and went in without waiting for an invite.  “Soren-”

 

Soren whirled and pointed at me.  “Don’t bother trying to make me feel guilty for setting him on fire.  There is literally nothing you can do to make me regret it.  _Literally nothing_.”

 

But that wasn’t why I paused.  You see, when I saw Soren in person, Inner Gatrie chimed in, _And now you can picture YOU having sex with Soren._

“Huh,” I said, because I definitely could.

 

Huh.

 

Oh boy.

 

“Ike?” Soren asked, voice cautious. 

 

So this is what I was missing?  Because uh…

 

“Seriously, Ike?”

 

Uh… Wow.  Um.  That was a pretty vision. 

 

“Are you having a stroke?”  He started gently slapping my face, and I snapped out of it a little bit.

 

“Uh, no.”  I reached up and took his hand.  “You’re really pretty.”

 

His eyebrows shot up.  “How hard did Skrimir hit you?”

 

“Not that hard, I just uh, had an epiphany…”  I took a deep breath to quell my libido, and took his other hand too.  “So uh, Soren.   Do you remember a long time ago, before the Mad King’s War, when Shinon beat you up and I attacked him?”

 

“… Yes…”

 

“And then how you mouthed off at Mordecai and I took that hit too?”

 

“I said I was sorry…”

 

“Or how about – actually I don’t think you know the time I got curb-stomped by Stefan because I was mad you two were talking…”

 

“I did not know that, no, what were you thinking?”

 

“My point is, apparently friends do not do that for each other, and I just didn’t get the distinction earlier.  The reason I keep you safe and overly care about your feelings and am happy you follow me around is _because I’m in love with you_.”

 

His eyes went wide, and we stared at each other for a few minutes.

 

 _Wow, that was blunt,_ said Inner Gatrie.

 

 _He’s blunt about everything,_ Inner Ranulf chimed in, letting me know he was still around. 

_True, true._

_Shut up guys, I’m trying to focus!_ I snapped at them.

 

In the real world, Soren ripped his hands out of mine.  “You, I can’t figure out if you’re being cruel or, or just not thinking it through,” he mumbled, staring at the floor.

 

Well, this wasn’t going well.  On the plus side, saying it out loud made the truth that much more obvious to me.  “Wait, what?  I’m not being cruel.  I’m being honest.  I love you, Soren.”  _Inner Gatrie, did you lead me astray?_ I demanded. 

_Honestly I figured you’d be having sex by now,_ Inner Gatrie admitted.

 

He was trembling as he started cleaning up his impeccable tent.  “You – you can’t,” he said, “you just can’t.  Don’t forget, I’m a Branded.  A filthy half-breed.  The great General of the Empress’ Armies cannot be in a relationship with a Branded.  That’s the kind of things wars are lost over.”

 

Oh of course it was about his inferiority complex.  Most things were, with him.  “Actually considering that Skrimir wants to marry you, I’m figuring most people don’t care,” I pointed out.

 

Soren winced.  “Skrimir does not want to _marry_ me, and he is an idiot besides.”  He took a deep breath, facing away from me.  “Ike, I – I mean, I wish-”

 

I had to interrupt him.  “Besides, have you met me?  First person who complains gets Ragnell shoved up their-”

 

“-we _can’t_ but I _want_ -”

“Hey guys, not sorry to interrupt!” Real Ranulf said loudly, shoving his head in through the tent flaps, “Also I’m not sorry to eavesdrop, because – you guys, literally everyone thinks you’re a couple except for Aimee and Skrimir.  We only all realized you weren’t because you don’t smell like sex or, like, any sort of extended physical contact.  A bunch of us were going to stage an intervention, but then Skrimir decided he wanted Soren instead.  That’s how we got here.”

 

Soren and I stared at him.  He gave us a big cheeky grin and a thumbs-up before ducking out and tying the tent shut behind him.

 

“Huh,” I said, not sure what else to say.

 

Soren’s face was somehow redder.  “Do – do you think he meant it?  Everyone already thought we…?”

 

I wasn’t sure, but Inner Gatrie was.  _Oh yeah.  We all thought you were married, to be honest.  Hence **our** intervention._

_Real or imaginary, I would never lie to you,_ said Inner Ranulf.  _After all, I’m your secondary best friend. Awwww. Now, kiiiiiss hiiiiiim._

So I did.

 

I very quickly had arms full of Soren, and the kiss we had quickly went from my “I have no idea what I’m doing but I want to kiss you so here goes” kiss to his “I also don’t know what I’m doing but I have wanted you for years never thought I would have you and I have so much pent-up sexual frustration it is possible that I will explode before we get our pants off” kiss.  His words, not mine.  He had a death grip on my hair, complete the control of the kiss, and your guess is as good as mine how I ended up on his blankets, but there I was. 

 

I mean, he’s scrawny and small so you’d think he’d be weak, but he’s deceptively strong.  Remember when I went to fight the Black Knight without him?  He was so pissed off that he punched me in the nose and broke it.  He was mortified afterwards and he healed me up and it’s the only time he’s ever hurt me, and I was more surprised (and impressed!) than anything else, but damn he has a nice right hook.  Anyway.

 

He stopped to look down at me, eagle-spread on his bedroll with him straddling my hips.  “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I have wanted you for years, never thought I would have you, and I have so much pent-up sexual frustration it is possible that I will explode before we get our pants off,” he confessed quickly.  See, told you those were his words. 

 

He kissed me hard again, and I caught his shoulders and pushed him back a bit.  “Hang on, you are ridiculously sexy right now, but we’re not exactly in a rush-”

 

“General Ike, the Empress requires your presence so we may begin the campaign to cross the Great Bridge,” called Sigrun from outside the tent.

 

“Are you kidding me!  I’m busy!” I yelled back.  Soren started kissing my neck, and that felt really good, you guys. 

 

“Not busy enough to justify making the Empress wait!” came Tanith’s much meaner voice. 

 

“You’re both on my shit list!” I snapped back.

 

“You have a shit list?” asked Sigrun, voice amused and getting her name underlined on the list.

 

Tanith was not impressed.  “You have five minutes before I come in there and drag you out!”

 

I pouted at Soren even as our lips finally met again.  “We might have to wait,” I admitted. 

 

He nodded.  “The state I’m in, five minutes will be plenty of time, but it will seem like a waste.”

 

I groaned, because that was hot.  “Okay how did I not notice how ridiculously hot you are?” I had to ask. 

_Because you’re dense,_ said Inner Gatrie.  _I’ve thought he was hot for years._

 

“Shut up, Inner Gatrie, he’s mine!  Hit on him again and I swear I will add you to my shit-list,” I said. 

 

“Er,” Soren said.

 

Yeah, that kinda killed the mood. 

 

I ended up back at the healing tent to get more treatment for my concussion, even if I really needed treatment for my very first case of blue balls.  “This whole ‘sex’ thing is rough,” I whined, although I did not expect Rhys to take care of my second problem.

 

“It can be, yes,” he said, and Inner Gatrie and Inner Ranulf shared a high-five. 

 

“That’s not what I meant,” I protested. 

 

He was smiling.  “Your neck is covered in sucking marks.  I think you’re in for a very rough night after the campaign.”

 

“Okay seriously you need to stop talking,” my sister snapped from the other side of the tent, where she was still healing Skrimir’s burns.  Skrimir himself reminded me a bit of wet cat, but his pain amuses me so I didn’t really feel bad for him. 

 

I stuck my tongue out at her like the mature older brother that I am.  “You’re sleeping with Boyd!” 

 

She gasped.  “It’s none of your business who I may or may not be dating!  My point wasn’t that I don’t want you dating someone, it’s that I don’t want to hear about your sexual mishaps!”

 

I stuck my tongue out at her again, and she stuck hers back at me.  Rhys sighed.  “Ike, having known you for years, I am going to hazard a guess that you may not be entirely sure how sex works?”

 

“I do,” said Skrimir, pouting.  Mist hit him a little on the arm, so I forgave her for everything.

 

“I have ideas,” I admitted, because I am not _that_ stupid, “but uh, not really sure how to make it _good?_ ” 

 

Rhys is kind of like Oscar in that both of them are the kind of people you have no trouble talking to about even the most awkward of things.  “Well a lot depends on your partner…” Okay people if you want a lecture on sex with men, go ask your parents or the internet, because I had no access to either of those things. 

 

So anyway, there was more healing, and then we crossed a bridge while murdering a bunch of Daeinites because I had to get my anxiety out somehow, and then… 

 

“Sorry it took so long for us to get to it, but it’s not my fault.  I could blame Sigrun, but it’s really Sanaki’s fault.  Wow, did you notice I know a lot of people with s-names and that most of them are on my shit list, which also begins with an s?  Weird.  You are _not_ on it though, but I guess that’s kind of ironic because you’ve also got an s name and you are the reason the other people are on the list at all,” I said to Soren as I prepared our tent.  He was watching me. “I’m taking my time to make it look a little cozier than I usually do, which, in my state, I actually find kind of arousing.  Like yeah, look at me setting up a sex tent.  Not to be confused with a sextant, which is an instrument used to navigate by the stars.”

 

“Wow, you are nervous,” he observed fondly.

 

“Me?  Nervous?  I’m not afraid of anything!”  Then I thought about it.  “Well, except the Black Knight killing someone else I care about… Aimee… Skrimir kidnapping you… Rhys when he’s drunk… and Mist’s vegetarian meatloaf.”  Is it vegetarian, or is it meatloaf?  Those are mutually exclusive!  I’ve never gotten a good answer on that.

 

Soren considered this before replying, “The rest all make sense, but Aimee the shop girl?”

 

I nodded.  “Everyone thinks it’s funny, but if I get drugged, bound and gagged and find myself as her slave, it will be horrifying and not that shocking.”

 

Soren gave a little smile and hugged me.  “As if I would ever let you out of my sight long enough for any of that to happen.  I could kill her, if you’d like.”

 

I snorted, tempted.  “Not yet, at least.”  I kissed the Brand on his forehead. 

 

“Eep,” he said. 

 

I grinned, I couldn’t help it.  “Did you just eep at me?”

 

Before he could answer, I kissed him again there.  “Eep,” he said again, his cheeks turning bright red.  Then I licked him there and he basically squealed.  I leaned into him while holding him so we could fall into my mass of blankets together. His surprise at my licking of his Brand must have faded a bit because he then grabbed my hair and yanked me back into kissing him.

 

Unf.  You guys, Soren is an awesome kisser.  I mean I don’t know about techniques or anything, but he kisses me like I’m gonna disappear if I don’t come in my pants, or like making out with me is the highlight of his life.  Totally hot, you guys, but none of you get to have him but _me_. 

 

“So how do you wanna do this?” I asked, not sure myself.   “There’s so many ways, and all of them seem really fun.” 

 

So, while I was busy killing people, I decided I was going to defer to Soren on everything, but I just really hoped he was interested in bottoming.   Wow, my life is weird. 

 

He looked thoughtful.  “Do you have any vulneraries here?”  His cheeks flushed. 

 

I echoed him slowly as I looked around.  He started taking my shirt off, which is distracting, but in the end I succeeded and found a vial.  “It just occurred to me that vulneraries are the perfect lubricant.  They’re, you know, lubricanty, _and_ healing.  That’s genius.”  He didn’t notice my awesome point because he was too busy staring at my chest. 

 

He gulped a little, obviously eating up the eye candy.  What can I say?  You didn’t think it was just my arms that were super buff, did you?  He ran his fingers over my chest and stomach.  “Dear Goddess, Ike, I could grate some cheese on your abs, this is absurd,” he muttered.  He ran his thumbs over my nipples, and for the first time I lamented that they’re not that sensitive. 

 

“My eyes are up here,” I teased.  His eyes flicked up and down, so I kissed him to get his attention.   We kissed a few times, and I muttered, “You know, it’s not fair that I’m half naked and you’re still dressed.”

 

His hands went to my belt.  “Agreed.  You should be completely naked.” 

 

“Ha ha,” I said, starting to work on the 800 laces, ties, layers, whatever that he wears.  “Wow, this is wildly impractical.  How do you ever take these all off?  Do you live in these robes?” 

 

“Ike.”

 

“I mean” This was ridiculous, the Great Hero of Crimea was not going to be thwarted by a bunch of knots! “I guess we could leave them on, but if I have to be naked, so do you, and I think this one is more knotted than it was when I started, sorry.”

 

“ _Ike_ , let me-”

 

“You know if I didn’t have so much competition, I would make it an order you’re not allowed to wear this stuff all the time.  What is this knot even _for?_   Mind if I just cut it?”

 

“Isaac!”

 

I recoiled a little because I had no idea that he knew that.  “Hey!”

 

He reached up and undid the knot that had thwarted me.  “Relax, would you?  It’s just me.  You and I could have the absolute worst sex in the world right now and I would still love you.” 

 

I nodded in agreement, forcing myself to take a deep breath.  “Aren’t you nervous?”

 

“Yes,” he said carefully, “and no.  I’ve always been comfortable with you, but this is new.  And my exposure to physical touch in the past has been… less than pleasant.  So.  I am wary, but not… not scared.”

 

My emotions in that moment were weird.  There was admiration, desire, a heaping dose of protectiveness, and of course love.  So sorry readers, if you were hoping for a blow-by-blow (ah ha, that’s a pun, and an accurate one) account, I just can’t give one.  So let me sum it up like this:  it was better than expected, he did want to bottom, he’s just as tight as you think he is, and the only way it would have been a better first time would’ve been if it took place a few years earlier.

 

Afterwards, I learned that I was a cuddler, and he wasn’t exactly opposed to it.  “So wait a minute, how come you never made a move?” I asked, petting his hair as he used my chest as a pillow.  “You said yourself you’ve had feelings for me for awhile.”

 

He snorted a little.  “Do you know what people call me, if they don’t know my name?  They call me ‘that boy who follows Ike around,’ and they’re not wrong.”

 

“You’re not a boy,” I had to interject with a smirk.  Because he’s all man, baby.

 

He smiled a little, that self-satisfied grin, but continued, “I have seen you reject so many people, Ike.  _So many_.  I honestly figured you were either asexual, or just immature for your age.”

 

“I’ve rejected people?” I had to ask.

 

He went into a list of them, which was kind of embarrassing and I realized I owed a lot of people apologies.  I also wondered if Soren kept a list somewhere, because otherwise it was kind of creepy – and impressive, don’t get me wrong.  “Well apparently it’s all because I saw my father kill my mother when I was little, and it scarred me for life even though I forget about it.”

 

“Huh,” said Soren. 

 

I considered that.  “You know, that means that I never would’ve figured out my feelings for you without…” I was going to say _Inner Gatrie and Inner Ranulf_ but I figured that would send my butt back to the healing tent, so I amended, “… Skrimir.”

 

There was a moment where it was obvious he was also coming to that same conclusion.  “Oh my, that’s horrifying.  I think we might have to break up now.”

 

I hit him with a pillow, not hard.  He actually laughed, which is a little like finding a benevolent dragon outside of Goldoa in terms of pleasantness and rarity.   “I’m not saying we have to go thank him!  He did give me a concussion, after all, and he wants you so a part of me bristles when I even think about him.  But maybe you could stop hating him.  Or we could get him a gift of some kind to, you know, thank him, and apologize for you setting him on fire twice.”

 

“Never,” he said after I removed the pillow.  He was smiling though.  “I told you I don’t regret setting him on fire.  But… well… maybe a small gift…”

 

I kissed his Brand again.  “I think we owe Skrimir a fruit basket.”

 

He sighed and smiled.  “I suppose we do.”


End file.
